


Spicing Up a Relationship

by Persiflage



Series: Domesticity with Porn [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Future Fic, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Captain America: Civil War, The Cocoon, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6372550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy decides Phil needs to get out of his own head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spicing Up a Relationship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> A while back someone posted a series of 'domesticity' prompts on Tumblr. This fic's the first in a series that takes one or more of the prompts and adds porn with feelings.

It's late in the evening when Coulson walks into the office he shares with Daisy at the Cocoon. He's surprised to see she's in here, sitting on the front edge of his desk, her legs swinging idly to and fro. He's no sooner across the threshold than she speaks.

"Lockdown." Her tone is stern and there's a glint in her eye he can't quite interpret until he realises that the white button-down shirt she's wearing is one of his, and if the length of idly swinging bare leg is any indicator, she's not wearing anything but underwear with the shirt. At this realisation his cock goes from soft to hard in an instant, and he swallows, the sound seeming horribly loud in the quiet room.

"Director Coulson," she says, still in that same strict tone, and he drags his gaze from her legs to her face. "Come here."

He obeys without thought or hesitation, crossing the room to her in a handful of strides.

"Stop." She's maintaining the stern tone of voice and it's making him ache with desire for her as he comes to a halt just in front of her – less than half a step more and his legs would be touching hers, he thinks, looking down distractedly.

"Eyes up, soldier." He obeys, but Coulson can't stop a quiet moan from escaping the back of his throat at her words and the tone of her voice.

"Did you speak?" she demands immediately.

"No, Director," he says quickly. "I – " He pauses to wet his lips, aware of the avid look she's giving him. "I didn't speak, ma'am. I – I moaned." His face flushes with both embarrassment and desire.

"That's acceptable, Phil," she tells him, her tone softer for a moment. She begins to unbutton the shirt, her fingers, normally so deft and quick, slow and casual as she fixes her gaze on him.

"Tomorrow's going to be a long, exhausting day," she says, still in that softened tone. She's referring to Superhero Registration Act, which they expect to become law tomorrow. "So I've given almost everyone the night off. Joey and Elena are on call, but they have orders not to disturb us for anything less than a major invasion, or a life-and-death threat."

His shirt's half unbuttoned now, and Daisy leans forward so that it gapes open, revealing the inner curves of her breasts, which tells him that she's not wearing a bra under his shirt. He bites back another moan, and barely refrains from pressing a hand against his groin. His cock's so hard now it's pushing very uncomfortably against the front of his jeans and he wishes that he'd put on a suit when he'd showered and changed earlier this evening after his final meeting with Steve Rogers. At least then his cock would be less compressed than it is right now.

"Director." Daisy's voice makes him realise he's been lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes snap back to her as she resumes unbuttoning his shirt.

"This is why we're doing this," she tells him. "You've been far too much in your own head lately." She holds up a hand before he can even open his mouth to protest or explain. "We both have, and it's understandable, but we both need a change of pace."

He nods, knowing she's right. 

"On your knees, soldier," she tells him, the strict tone back in force, and he obeys immediately as she uncrosses her legs and parts them, which also pulls his shirt open the rest of the way: she's not wearing a bra, but she is wearing a pair of the new, skimpy briefs she bought for him a couple of weeks ago. He's not fond of them since they expose a lot of his ass and barely hold his cock in place – which is precisely why she loves them, he knows. On her, though, they look very good indeed, and he can't help groaning loudly.

"D'you like what you see, Director?" she asks casually.

"Fuck, yes," he moans.

"Then be a good boy and make me come. And if you do a good job, I'll let you fuck me right here on your desk."

"Daisy!" If he wasn't already rock hard, her words would have made him so.

He leans forward, his hands resting on his thighs; they're clutching at the denim of his jeans, in fact, so that he won't be tempted to unfasten his pants and pull out his dick before she gives him permission. He flattens his tongue against the fabric of his briefs, noticing that there's already a damp spot on them, then he drags his tongue upwards in a long, slow stroke.

"Good boy, Phil." Her praise is delivered in a breathy tone and he realises that she's probably at least as aroused as he is. "You can use your fingers," she tells him, and he sighs softly in relief. Since she hasn't given him permission to remove his briefs, though, he leaves them in place, simply pulling the fabric aside so he can get his mouth on her flesh. He wants her to come in his briefs, he decides, barely suppressing a shudder of desire at the thought. 

As he'd suspected, she's already wet and it's not long before he's got two fingers inside her, twisting them around until they're in the right position for him to stroke her to a climax. She comes hard, his fingers curled inside her, and his nose pressed against her clit, and he whimpers softly – he's sure he's going to pop off at any moment, and he hopes she'll let him fuck her soon.

"Good boy, Phil," she says and grabs the back of his neck and tugs. He gets to his feet and she pulls him in for a kiss, dragging her tongue through the wetness on his face before she slips her tongue into his mouth.

"Now you can fuck me." 

He tugs his briefs down her legs, noting that they're a lot more damp now, then drops them to the floor.

"Next time I'll wear some of your boxers," she tells him, "and you can fuck me while they're on."

"Oh fuck, Daisy." He scrabbles at the belt and zipper on his jeans, and gets them open, before shoving them, and the boxers he's wearing, down his legs. 

She curls her hand around his rock-hard cock, smirking a bit when she sees how engorged it is, and that it's already leaking pre-cum, then guides him towards her sex. He starts to slide into her, but the angle's wrong – the desk is too high, he realises as he finds he has to push up onto his toes.

"Let me," she says and eases him backwards with one hand on his chest. When he steps away, she slides off the desk, then turns her back on him, bending over the desk with her forearms supporting her. "Now fuck me, Phil."

He obeys, parting her thighs and thrusting into her with more force than finesse. She grunts when he bottoms out, then pushes back against him, and he gets the unspoken message. Since he's very desperate to come he doesn't hesitate to fuck her hard and fast, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust.

Daisy matches her movements to his, slamming her body back against his as he thrusts forward, and then she comes again, her muscles tightening around his cock, and that's enough to send him over the edge. He clings to her hips as he cock pulses inside her, spilling his seed deep within her sex.

He can't hold himself upright, although he tries, but his body slumps down on top of hers – he feels as limp as a cooked noodle. 

"That was a very good fuck, Phil," she tells him, and he murmurs his thanks.

She slowly pushes herself upright from the desk, and he feels his spent cock slip out of her, along with some of his come. She turns around and wraps her arms around him, her bare breasts pressed against the button down he's still wearing.

"Let's grab a shower, and then take a nap," she suggests. "We can eat in a bit."

"Yeah," he agrees. He kisses her, a brief press of his lips to hers. "Thank you for taking me out of my head."

She smiles at him. "Any time, Phil." She fastens some of his shirt buttons, then grabs his discarded briefs, waiting while he pulls his boxers and jeans back up. When they're reasonably presentable, she cancels the lockdown on the office, then they hurry, hand in hand, along the hall from their office to their shared quarters. 

As she leads him through the door, he can't help thinking what a lucky man he is to have such an exceptional woman as Daisy Johnson not just in his life, but as his lover. And whatever happens tomorrow, he'll always be glad and grateful that they had this interlude first.


End file.
